Apocalypse Ground Zero: Refusing To Leave Home Chapter 40: The Solution

A breaking news headline caught my attention imdiately, and it wasn’t good news.

Not like the news on tv was ever good news.

I paused the video mid-scene and looked up at the television just long enough to read the bold red and yellow letters.

BREAKING: Global Solution to Infection Crisis Announced

The announcent scrolled across the bottom of the screen while a governnt official stood at a podium, flanked by scientists in white coats and military personnel in dress uniforms. His voice was steady, confident, and specially designed to project calm authority.

"After extensive collaboration between international governnts and leading scientific institutions, we are prepared to deploy a comprehensive solution to the current crisis. This solution has been rigorously tested and is completely safe for all living beings. At precisely twelve hundred hours local ti across all affected regions, the treatnt will be released into the atmosphere. We expect imdiate and decisive results. We will gain the upper hand, the infected will not win."

The cara cut to a panel of scientists nodding in agreent. One of them even leaned forward to add, "This represents a coordinated global effort from renowned scientists from all countries. The compound is designed to target the infection at its source while remaining entirely harmless to uninfected individuals. We are confident this will bring the crisis to an end. In fact, I invite you to go outside when it is released so that you can watch history in the making. Don’t worry, you will not be hard. I guarantee it."

I let out a soft scoff as the broadcast shifted to images of military aircraft being loaded with canisters and footage of coordinated preparations across multiple countries. It even included maps showing synchronized deploynt zones.

It looked professional, organized, and most importantly, hopeful.

In fact, it look suspiciously like salvation.

I stood up imdiately, shaking my head.

Of course, no one in the room noticed my quick actions, they were all too focused on the television to see the real world around them. While the four n might be listening to the announcent repeating across every channel with the sa ssage, the sa reassurances, the sa carefully constructed promise of an ending, I was already half way across the room.

But I didn’t say anything.

I just walked into the kitchen and started gathering what I wanted.

The energy drinks ca first, because I was going to need them the most. I grabbed four cans from the fridge and set them on the counter. Then I moved to the pantry and pulled down two bags of cheezies and three chocolate bars.

I didn’t rush. I didn’t explain myself. I just collected what I needed and stacked it neatly in my arms.

From the living room, I could hear Chenghai’s voice, low and controlled. "If this works—"

"It will work," Zhenlan interrupted, his voice too hopeful for my peace of mind. "They wouldn’t deploy it globally if they weren’t certain."

I turned and walked toward the hallway leading to the basent stairs.

No one stopped .

No one even looked.

They were too focused on the broadcast, too focused on the promise of normalcy returning, too focused on the idea that this nightmare might actually end.

I pushed open the basent door with my shoulder and started down the stairs, balancing the snacks and drinks carefully as I descended into the cool darkness below.

I wasn’t making that mistake again.

I knew what happened when they dropped the bombs, because that was what it was. it was a carefully curated bioweapon that was supposed to free all of mankind from the zombies.

What it really did was only kill the weak ones, leaving the strongest ones immune to another similar attack.

It also changed every human who was outside and breathing the air.

In my past life, I’d watched it unfold in real ti. The bioweapon dropped at noon, just like they said it would. And for a few hours, it seed like it worked. Weaker infected collapsed. The ones that had been mindlessly clawing at doors and windows just... stopped. Fell over. Didn’t get back up.

Then the people celebrated.

They thought it was over.

And then different powers started manifesting in the people who were exposed to the fallout of the bioweapon.

Sure, it took a few days for people to realize what was happening. But then suddenly, soone could move objects without touching them. Another person could generate heat from their hands. Soone else could see in complete darkness or hear conversations from hundreds of ters away.

It seed like a gift.

It seed like humanity had been given an advantage—a way to fight back, to survive, to rebuild.

But it wasn’t.

The powers were a trap.

The stronger your ability, the more it consud. Every ti you used it, you were burning calories—massive amounts of calories, that your body didn’t have to spare. In a world where food was already scarce, where every al was rationed and fought over, the powers quickly turned into a death sentence.

Not only had I seen it happen, I had it happen to , too.

You would use your ability to defend yourself from the infected... from the zombies. You’d feel strong, capable, unstoppable. And then an hour later, you’d be as weak as a new born baby. You started shaking, the world started to tip as you continued to force out your powers.

Then you hit that sweet spot where your body would start consuming itself—burning through fat, then muscle, then whatever was left—just to keep the power active.

And the worst part?

The stronger you were, the more the infected were drawn to you.

Powerful abilities acted like a beacon. The zombies could sense it sohow—maybe through sll, maybe through so instinct we never fully understood—but they were drawn to people with abilities like moths to a fla. The more you used your power, the more of them ca. And the more of them that ca, the more you had to use your power to survive.

It was a cycle that ended the sa way every ti.

You’d fight. You’d burn yourself out. You’d get weaker and weaker even while defending yourself. And then eventually, the infected would overwhelm you, because you didn’t have the strength left to stop them.

I’d seen it happen to dozens of people. Hundreds, maybe.

People who thought their powers made them invincible.

People who didn’t realize they were killing themselves every ti they used them.

I’d developed a power too, in my past life. Nothing flashy, just the ability to manipulate plants and the earth. Nothing that made a real target. But I’d learned quickly that using it wasn’t worth the cost.

This ti, I wasn’t going to make that mistake.

This ti, I was staying in the basent—underground, sealed off, away from the external exposure—until the bioweapon passed.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and moved toward the corner where I’d already set up a makeshift space for . There was a blanket, a pillow, plus my phone that was fully charged with a downloaded library of dramas and movies that didn’t require internet.

I set the snacks and drinks down beside the blanket and sat, pulling my knees up and leaning back against the cool concrete wall.

Above , I could hear the faint sound of footsteps moving through the house. Voices drifting down through the floorboards. The n were still focused on the broadcast, still waiting for noon, still believing that salvation was coming.

Let them believe it.

I wasn’t going to be the one to tell them otherwise.

I unlocked my phone and selected the next episode in my queue. The screen lit up, casting a soft glow across the dim basent.

I opened a bag of cheezies and settled in to wait.